


The Silent Storm

by CuriousNymph



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: About the Doctor's character, Action/Adventure, Don't Judge Me, Epic, Experimental, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Honesty, How Do I Tag, Listen to epic music whilst reading this, More strange fic, POV First Person, Surprise Ending, Unusual Ending, sorry folks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-01-22
Packaged: 2018-09-19 07:04:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9424562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuriousNymph/pseuds/CuriousNymph
Summary: The Doctor has always ran, all his life. And his companion knows it better than anyone.





	

Running.

It’s the best thing about it. Just running. With your legs eating up the floor and your lungs aching for the next breath but your mouth unable to breath anymore, gasping for the next one because this sprint is just pure adrenaline fueled by the idea of imminent death if you aren’t quick enough…

That’s the thrill at its max.

And it never stops.

Running with him is more than just an adventure – it’s a stake on your life. A stake on the planet’s – the universe’s – existence. You can just give up, or just keep going, and never stop. He’s the one thing we all crave inside of ourselves – that something that holds the undeniable longing for something more than the lives we already lead.

Running with the Doctor is like my life flashing before my eyes.

I’m living a million lives all at once, hurtling through the fabric of time and space to seek out the danger and mess around with it. Unfolding the mystery like the petals of the reddest rose, and its colour is deep crimson,

Because the Doctor is not the best of men.

Is he the killer? The merciless traveller?

The idiot with the box?

He’s all of that.

He’s my Doctor – the man I travel with to the stars and beyond. The one man who is like no other – he’s the greatest and the loneliest, the wisest and sharpest, the most magnificent and the least remembered.

My Doctor is no hero. He has no idea where he’s going, or what might happen. He never goes into something completely sure of his survival, least of all mine.

But he dives in, because where’s the fun in caution?

The wiry, silver streaked hair and overpowering, intense stare; the weathered face, the lines holding the hundreds of years he’s lived, and those pained eyes, aglow with mischief as he sets off once more.

And I love him.

As wholly as one could. As anyone could. He is everything to me – the choice I never thought I had. The person I never thought would be there.

The man I never thought I’d meet.

He’ll grab my hand, firm, and strong, and he’ll grin manically, and whisk me off to places I never knew existed. And we’re running, and I’m terrified but am so, so caught up in the moment that all I can see is him and the world he has made me a part of.

How can I ever stop loving a man like that?

It’s a love for someone you feel you need to keep you sane. The person you rely on, believe in, trust. He’s my light in the never-ending darkness.

He’s worn faces like masks – from grumpy middle-aged northerner to wild, sparky lover to madcap, bowtie wearing inventor.

He’s now the man of war and love and hate and peace and sorrow and regret – he wants to move on,

But he can’t.

But the Doctor – he’s the one man I can rely on.

Cause he’s only

 

in

 

my

 

head.


End file.
